


Pure Defiance

by cry_silver



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, But trust me - this will be filth, Butt Plugs, Evil Matt, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Matt is obsessed with Stiles, Multi, None in first chapter, One-Sided Relationship, Porn With Plot, Psychopathic Behaviour, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Punishments, Spanking, Unhealthy Relationships, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-03-25 00:09:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13822356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cry_silver/pseuds/cry_silver
Summary: “Now I’m going to take you away Stiles,” Matt said as he began to back the car out of the parking lot. The kanima, had now shifted back into Jackson’s form but was sitting way to still and obedient to ever fool Stiles. “And you will finally be mine.”Or, an alternate version of the Fury Episode (S02xE10) - where instead of Matt being obsessed with Allison, he fixates on Stiles, managing to get away from the station with the kanima still in his control and Stiles as a hostage.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back ;) Enjoy my pretties!  
> Also i'm a little bit twisted, so don't read this if you don't like fics which can get dark at times.
> 
> Unfortunately I've struggled to find a beta for this fic, with it's unusually pairing and dark content. If you're interested in Beta'ing or know someone who would be willing, let me know by messaging me on [Tumblr.](http://crysilver.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'll also try and update this fic as often as possible, but i'm still on my crazy schedule and this fic was also hard to write.

Stiles never liked Matt Daehler. That boy just made him uncomfortable. It was never anything he had done, just a resounding feeling that something was not quite right.  Usually he trusted his instinct, but Isaac only managed to get three tickets to the rave; one for Scott, one for Erica and one he kept for himself. Boyd was going to stay patrol with Derek out the back so didn’t need a ticket. Stiles however refused to let the werewolves kick him out of executing his own damn plan. So, when Matt offered to take him to that very rave Stiles figured one lousily date was a pretty good trade off.

The night started bad. He had learned that the reason his dad was put on leave was because of his attempt to stop Jackson. Then he was forced to dance with Matt! Thankfully, those feelings were temporally overwhelmed by the high of managing to conjure a ring around the rave’s venue with Deaton magic fairy dust. He was so stuck in his celebration, he didn’t even hear Matt coming into the alley way.

“Stiles?” Matt asked, head sticking out of the door. “I don’t think this is the line for the bathroom…”

‘Uhhh…” Stiles cursed himself. He raked his brain for a viable excuse, luckily, he is a natural in the art of bullshitting. A talent that often goes unnoticed. “I felt a little dizzy in there. I thought I’d come out for some fresh air.”

“Right,” Matt said, eyeing the ash beneath Stiles’ feet. “What is that?”

“No idea.” Stiles replied as he started to move back to the door. “But I’m feeling better now, so…let’s go back to dancing.”

Matt lead Stiles back to the dance floor. Surrounded by the resounding beat of the music around him and retaining some of the pride from his previous feat with the mountain ash, Stiles let himself sway more easily to the music. Matt seemed to appreciate Stiles more relaxed demeanour and shifted closer.

With bodies pressed behind him, Stile had nowhere to go. Matt let his gaze linger on Stiles’ recently toned body. As it turns out that running with wolf and chasing Kanima’s actually does lead to a six pack…albeit a less defined one that most on the lacrosse team.

After what seemed like seemed like an eternity, Matt finally tired of the dancing. He led Stiles to some seats and produced a bottle of water. Stiles greedily chugged down the refreshing cool liquid, pointedly ignoring the way his date was eyeing his Adam’s apple.

“You enjoying yourself?” Matt asked as he seated himself next to Stiles.

Stiles actually feels bad for the first time that night. He had shamelessly abused Matt’s offer, and then proceeded to ignored Matt, even though he had been nothing but nice to Stiles. Sure, he got a little handsy as some points but he was harmless. He even reminded Stiles a little of himself when he was chasing Lydia not too long ago. Enthusiastic but harmless.

“Yeah, it’s been fun!” Stiles says with a smile. Matt frowns as if he can see right through him. “No seriously. It may seem like my head is somewhere else right now, but that’s not your fault. I felt that way before I met you tonight, and spending time with you has managed to make my night a little better.”

Matt must have believed what stiles had said, because he smiled shyly, before looking at Stiles with serious eyes. “Does this have anything to do with Jackson and the restraining order?”

Stiles really should not have been surprised that Matt knew. It was a small town, and people talk. Especially when it’s the Sheriff’s kid getting in trouble.

“They put my dad on a leave of absence.” Stiles said hollowly.

Matt placed a comforting hand on Stiles’.

“Do you ever feel like you’ve messed up? Like royally.” Stiles didn’t even know why he was confiding in Matt anymore. Maybe it was because Scott never had time. Maybe it was because Stiles didn’t really have anyone else. Maybe it was because he was tired of never letting anyone else in. “Like you have the best intentions, but you only make the situation worse?”

“Yeah,” Matt consoles, as he pulls Stiles closer. Stiles would have pushed him away, except he couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a loving embrace. “None of us are perfect Stiles. It almost like it’s in the definition of teenagers to screw up.”

Stiles looks up at Matt and lets a gentle smile grace his lips. Maybe he had underestimated his classmate.

Any such feelings disappeared when Matt leaned in and kissed his lips, tongue trying to gain more access. Stiles recoiled immediately, and pushed away from his elder peer.

“Sorry.” Matt apologises.

“It’s ok.” Stiles mutterers, as he casts his gaze back into the crowd. He spots Erica and Isaac dragging what looking like Jackson into a back room. “Actually, it’s not. Excuse me, I’ve got to make a call.”

Stiles doesn’t give Matt a chance to respond as he gets up and hurries after Isaac and Erica. He managed to make it to the back room as Isaac lowers Jackson down.

“I can’t believe it work,” Erica whispers to Stiles, disbelief evident in her voice.

“Never doubted you for a second cat woman.” Stiles repliers gently patting his classmate, knowing Erica could hear the truth in his heart beat. “Is he ok?”

“Let’s find out,” Isaac asserts as he retracts his claws and advances on the Kanima. Jackson’s hand soars out, trapping Isaacs’s wrist in a bone crunching grip.

“Ok - NO ONE TRIES ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!” Stiles exclaims, as Isaac cradles his injured wrist.

“I thought Deaton said it’ll knock him out?” Erica said, eying Jackson warily.

“Clearly this is the best we’re gonna get…” Stiles says as he inches closer, bending down in front of Jackson. “Do you think he is here? The one controlling him?”

The question was rhetorical, but the Kanima still answered. “I am here. I am here with you all.”

 

 

Lacrosse training was brutal. But not even Coach’s relentless drills could keep the previous night from playing back in his mind. Jackson managing to escape. The Kanima claiming another victim. The Kanima’s master managing to slip through the cracks, it was unrelenting. Each time they thought they had a plan, they were knocked down.

Couch had them lined up, doing two on one drill at goals and Stiles’ turn was looming. He groaned when he realised his partner was going to be Isaac, who after his new-found werewolf skills, had become somewhat of a show off.

“Try and keep up, Stilinski.” Isaac bantered.

“Bite me.” Stiles snarks back, playfully baring his teeth.

“Next!” Coach summoned.  Flicking Stiles a smile, Isaac scoops the ball and takes off. Stiles, anticipating the move, follows wide to the right. Isaac swings the ball without warning, faking for the net before actually passing to Stiles who maintaining the element of surprise, fires into the goals before Danny could adjust himself.

The play was exhilarating for Stiles. When he first got placed on the team, he was barely a rung above Greenburg, spending the majority of his time on the bench.  Recently however, the wolves have taken him in as their own. When he struggles in training, one of them will randomly appear beside him giving him silent encouragement, or tackling a player out of his way. They had even started showing up to the training sessions Scott held for him to improve.

It wasn’t just the skills and fitness element that had improved either, chasing the Kanima together had also made the boys more in tune. It was like Stiles could see the play forming in Isaacs’s eyes before he even moved. His teammates were starting to notice his improvement, with Danny even hinting that Coach may actually let him have some field time soon.

“Dude! That was awesome!” Scott commented from the bench where they had gone to get some refreshment.

“It was pretty badass, right?” Stiles asked, as he took a seat next to Boyd. It was Jackson’s turn and the boys watched with interest. It was unnerving to think that the arrogant jock on the field before them, turned into a murderous beast just the night before.

Jackson shot, and predictably scored. Stiles scoffed, annoyed that the other teen could continue with his life as if everything was normal but Stiles’ was falling all around him. He hadn’t even managed to have a conversation with his dad since he had left for the rave the previous night.

“Did you hear that?” Isaac whispers to Scott, as both men stared towards the forest. Scott nodded in repose, narrowing his eyes, as if trying to find its source.

“Hear what? HELLO… _non-wolfy ears here_ …” Stiles whispers.

Neither men had time to answer, before Coach yelled, “McCall, Lahey! Get you asses back here unless you want to be doing suicide runs until dawn!”

“Go, I’ll check it out,” Stiles orders, curious as to what has both wolves spooked.

“Careful,” Scott warns before following Isaac back onto the field. Stiles slowly edges closer to the wood, hoping Coach wouldn’t notice. He was in luck.

As soon as he reached the tree line, all cautious disappeared as he ventured closer to the spot Isaac and Scott appears to be focusing on. He wondered around the area aimlessly finding nothing out of the ordinary. He was about to give up and head back when he noticed something in the foliage.

Stiles bent down and inspected it. Brushing the leaves off, he found a Beacon Hills High issued camera. Turning it over, he realised it was still on. Curious, he pressed the preview button to see the last picture that had been taken.

He was surprised when his face came up on screen. It was a shot of him getting his drink not even five minutes ago. He scrolled trough the pictures on the camera, to find more shoots of himself from the afternoon. There were ones of him talking to the wolves, ones of him doing drills and even of him setting up his gear on the sidelines, all clearly taken from a vantage point in the preserve.

His first thought was that the photographer was surveilling him due to his link to the supernatural. But it didn’t make sense, seeing as there was three wolves and the Kanima on the same field as him, and yet he was still the main focus of each picture. Next was a hunter, possible trying to find some leverage on Scott or Derek but that logic was also flawed. Hunters were stealthy, they were highly competent in how to hide from a were, so Scott and Isaac should not have been able to hear them. Also, a hunter would not have spooked so easily when being spotted, and certainly would not have dropped their camera.

He collected the camera and started to head back to the field after hearing couch’s whistle, signifying the end of practise. He almost made it to the tree line when he saw Scott, Isaac and Boyd coming towards him.

“What did you find?” Scott asked, eying the camera tucked away in Stiles’ arm.

“A unicorn.” Stiles snarks as he lifted the camera for the boys to inspect. “It belongs to the school, so whoever it was attends Beacon Hills.”

“Is there any way to find out who?” Boyd asked, turning the camera as if expecting to find a name on the bottom.

“Danny would know,” Isaac said looking towards Stiles, “I’m fairly sure you can persuade him.”

“What!? Why me?” Stiles replied indignant. “I was the one who had to go into the wood, alone may I add, to find that.”

Isaac simply shrugged before adding, “You’ve done it before, when you were trying to track the Alpha.”

“Nooo,” Stiles said, pushing Isaac back, “Derek convinced him.  I just shoved them into the same room.”

“You’re smart…you’ll think of something.” Isaac replied, shoving the camera into Stiles and heading back to the change rooms with Boyd.

“I have faith in you buddy,” Scott said sincerely, before also making his way to get changed.

Stiles sighed. The wolves would really be lost without him.

 

 

 “Dannyyy!” Stiles yelled after his classmate. “Danny wait. Wait for me!”

Danny ignored him, speeding up his pace.

“ _Danny!_ ” Stiles persisted, moving against the constant wave of classmates heading in the opposite direction. “Danny, come on man! You know we’re both heading to Econ.”

“What is it Stilinski?” Danny relented, pausing in the hallway to let his out of breath peer catch up. “You better not be asking if gay guys find you attractive again.”

“What? No! Look yesterday after lacrosse, I found this near the field,” Stiles said, reaching into his bag to reveal the camera. “I just wanted to know if you know whose it is.”

“Camera’s from the school are lent to people for 2-week periods Stiles, so they can complete their relevant project. The camera log is kept somewhere in equipment locker”

That was how Stiles ended up in equipment locker after suffering economics with Finstock. He riffled through useless files and documents before he found the log book he was looking for. Ecstatic with his find, Stiles lets out a fist pump, before turning his attention back to the most recent sign out sheet. He scanned the numbers listed on the page to the camera’s corresponding barcode and found the name he was looking for. **Matt Daehler**.

 

 

Matt was not a popular kid. He was kind of like Stiles in the sense that before Peter went homicidal and brought back werewolf drama to Beacon Hills, he often flew under the radar and only had one good friend. But where Scott and Stiles grew their friendship circle after being bitten, Isaac had left Matt alone.

Stiles mulled over the possibility of that being Matt’s motive behind the photo, as revenge against his former friend or the beings that took him away. If it was, there would be sweet irony in using Stiles as trigger, targeting the human who wasn’t left behind like himself.

Since Isaac stopped spending lunch with him, Matt started eating lunches in the peace under the bleachers. He unfortunately did not share a lunch period with Stiles. Stiles excused himself from class, complaining of a migraine. Taking a detour out across the lacrosse field Stiles made his way to the bleachers, anticipation swirling in his bones as he prepared for the confrontation. He knows he has to play it careful. There was a possibility Matt was ignorant to the supernatural and there was another reason for the picture, but Stiles doubts it. He suspects that Matt at least has an inkling from when he lent Jackson the video camera.

“Matt.” Stiles says as Matt jumped, surprised that someone else was near him. He genuinely smiled when he saw Stiles, which seems to throw Stiles off a little. He was expecting hostility or at least cowering, not excitement. It made him question himself, maybe it wasn’t Matt taking the pictures in the woods that day, maybe someone else had taken his camera.

“Stiles! I tried to talk to you since the rave but you’ve been so busy these past couple of days.” Matt began to explain as he shifted from his usually spot against the frame to come stand in front of Stiles. “I’m sorry about what happened that night, I obviously read the messages wrong. But I did really enjoy my night apart from that…so if you wanted to -”

“It’s fine.” Stiles said, cutting Matt off. He didn’t come here for this and frankly couldn’t care less. He took the camera out of his bag and gave it to Matt. “I found this last night.”

Matt doesn’t take it. In fact, Matt pales at the sight of it. It’s all the proof Stiles needs to quell his previous insecurities about Matt being innocent. The pictures coupled with Matts attempted kiss just a couple nights prior lead Stiles to get angry. Very angry.

“Some interesting pictures on there.” Stiles continues to say as he stalks closer. Matt instinctively backs away but is cornered into a pole. “Well? Are you going to say anything?”

Stiles was getting frustrated by Matt’s lack of response. He was come into the situation expecting to confront someone scheming on taking down his wolves. Instead he was standing in front perved, cowering against a pole hugging his camera.

“This is going to stop Matt. You will stop asking me out. You will stop following me or loitering around where you know I’m going to be and you will stop with the pictures.” Stiles commanded before leaving Matt to finish his lunch.

He felt bad for the kid. He was just lonely and had a crush, but acting that way around Stiles is dangerous. Stiles’ life is dangerous, and the last thing he wants is someone getting caught in the crossfire for something as innocent as a high school crush.

 

 

It was a damming revelation. Matt could be connected to the four murders; Mrs McCall spoke with him at the hospital, footprints at the trailer site, oil change at the mechanics and at the rave with Stiles. They were so close. Stiles was buzzing with excitement. Soon Melissa would be here and then they would have enough for a warrant. All that excitement disappeared when he found arrived at the front desk however.

He was confronted with Tara’s body, lying still in a pool of her own blood. It hit him hard, having known her since he was a young boy. He turned to inform the others but was met with the butt of Matt’s gun. Matt grabbed Stiles’ shoulders and pushed him forward with the gun. They walked back into the office to a surprised sheriff and startled Scott.

“Matt. It’s Matt right?” The Sheriff began to try and reason with him, arm held high in a placating gesture. “Matt, whatever is going on I guarantee you there is a solution that doesn’t involve a gun.”

“It’s funny you say that, because I don’t think you’re aware of just how right you are.” Matt replied sardonically. Stiles and Scott tensed. The Sheriff did not know about the kanima but Matt was not aware of that.

“I know you don’t want to hurt people,” The sheriff tries again. It was just not in Stilinski blood to give up easily, though sometimes for his dad’s sake Stiles wished it was.

“Actually, I want to hurt a lot of people.” Matt said. “You three weren’t on my list but I think I could be persuaded and one way is dialing someone on your cell phone like McCall.”

Scott immediately took his hand out of his pocket, as Matt continued. “That, that could definitely get someone hurt. Like Stiles.” As he was talking Matt had stalked up to Stiles, and now for the second time in the last hour Matt’s gun was aimed at him.

“Phones on the table now. NOW!” Matt said adding the second part when he felt they were not complying fast enough. The headlights of a car shone through the blinds at that moment. “Sounds like your mum’s here McCall,”

“Matt please. Pease don’t do this. If she comes here I’ll just tell her to leave, tell her it was a mistake.” Scott tries to please, but it was useless.

“If you don’t move, now, I’m going to kill Stiles first. Then the Sheriff. Then your mum.” Matt threatens.

It works, the three of them walk slowly to the front office, dreading what will happen next. Scott and Stiles lead the way. They both breathed a sigh of they are met with the sight of Derek. At the same time, the kanima now done with attacking the officers, stands behind Matt. It was only half shifted, using Jackson’s face with scales climbing up the sides and glowing lizard eyes.

They stood silently for a couple of seconds, just staring at each other before Scott and Derek attacked the kanima. The Sheriff who had previously been transfixed by the kanima, snapped out of his trance and focused on Matt. For a moment Stiles was at a loss who to help. His father was a trained and experienced grown man against a teenager. But the teenager held a gun. On the other hand, the kanima had already proven too much for a pack of wolves let alone the two it was fighting but Scott and Derek had obviously learnt from their previous encounters and Deaton’s tips. They fought seamlessly, as if executing a choreographed dance. They had already managed to chase the kanima back in to the detective’s bull pen.

Seeing his father starting to falter in his steps, Stiles rushes to his side, attempting to wrestle the gun from the teen. After what seem like hours but was more likely only about half an hour, the four of them had manages to gain control. Scott and Derek had the Kanima pinned in the holding, after tearing a path of destruction through the station. Similarly, Stiles and his father managed to have Matt restrained by the front desk, using Tara’s set of handcuffs. For once thing were going their way.

And then the Argent arrived.

The stormed the station with a variety of flash grenades and smoke bombs. It was disorientating enough for Stiles and his father, not to mentions the wolves with enhanced senses. The kanima managed to get free when Derek and Scott were overwhelmed, and when the boys tried to recapture it they were assaulted by the argent who seemed more intent on trapping them than the kanima. On the other side of the station, Stiles and his father weren’t safe either. Though they were spared from the Argent forces, they faced a newly free kanima. While they were fighting it off, Matt had managed to crawl to Tara’s body and secure the handcuff key.

The kanima wrapped its tail around the Sheriffs neck and tossed him through the dividing wall. Horrified, Stiles immediately rushed to go check on the only remain family he has left. His lasp in concentration however allowed the kanima to whip its tail in a paralysing blow. Rendered immobile, Stiles could only watch helplessly as the kanima dragged him further from his father. He really started to panic once they got outside and were heading for Jackson’s Porsche.

“Matt! Matt Please.” Stiles said. He could not move from his neck down but his mouth worked fine. “Matt, just let me go. I can’t move. I couldn’t stop you, even if I wasn’t paralysed!”

“Ha. You don’t see it do you. It’s never been about stopping people with brute strength for you. It’s that intricate brain of yours and that’s not paralysed.” Matt said, without missing a step. Stiles was shocked by the way Matt manages to see him for being as dangerous as he was, but that was soon superseded when he saw car was less than ten metres away. “But it’s not about that either. It’s about you Stiles. You should have just given me a chance.”

Matt opened the front door and the kanima deposited a bewildered Stiles into the car, buckling him in. Matt leaned on the passenger door and continued. “Before I was invisible, so I don’t blame you for not even seeing me. But then Jackson – or more accurately the kanima happened. When I went to have my oil changed, guess whose name I saw in the book Stiles. You think it was a coincidence it was during your appointment the kanima attacked? Or that I chose to go after Derek while you were both at the pool? Ha! The rave was my personal favourite, so blind to the guy you were grinding up against.

“But that talk today at lunch? Yeah, that made me realise you would never be mine willing. It also made me question myself…I have all this power so why didn’t I just take you? Sure, if things had gone more to plan you, Scott and your father would have destroyed all incriminating evidence but I’m leaving with what I really came for.” Matt shut the door before getting in the driver’s seat and starting the car. The kanima, had now shifted back into Jackson’s form but was sitting way to still and obedient to ever fool Stiles.

“Now I’m going to take you away Stiles,” Matt said as he began to back the car out of the parking lot. “And _ **you will finally be mine**_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a second it seemed like Matt wasn’t going to respond. He tightened his grip on the wheel before addressing Stiles again. “How badly do you want it?”  
> “What?” Stiles responds, genuinely confused.  
> “How badly do you want food?” Matt repeats, “What are you willing to do in exchange for it?”  
> “What do you want me to do in exchange?” Stiles asked through gritted teeth. He knew he was not going to like the answer.  
> Matt looked at Stiles with a heated gaze. “A blow job.”

Matt continued to drive for a couple of hours with Stiles maintaining an uncharacteristic silence,  before finally stopping for gas. During the drive he had given up trying to reason with Matt, deciding instead on the silent treatment. It didn’t really have its desired effect however, with Matt perfectly content with silence.

“Want anything from inside?” Matt asked, as he got out of the car.

Stiles simply shook his head in response. He _was_ hungry, having not eaten since lunch. His ADHD spun him into a black hole revolving around the mystery of the Kanima’s mater, and his subsequent excitement at the revelation caused all thoughts of food to be pushed aside. With the adrenaline now waring off and the truth of his situation hitting him hard, Stiles could feel himself begin to crash.

But he was also stubborn to the core.

Stiles watched as Kanima-Controlled-Jackson got out to fill the car. He turned to see Matt browsed the limited range of food in the 3 miles from nowhere convenience store. With both captors occupied, he weighed up his options of successfully being able to escape in his partially paralyzed state. Just as he began to really formulate plans however, Jackson returned to his seat in the car. Not even a minute later, Matt also started heading back to the car.

“I need to use the restroom,” Stiles casually stated as Matt sat back down. Even with the Kanima venom beginning to wear of, he still required assistance to walk more than 10 meters.

“Now?” Matt askes suspiciously.

“We’ve been driving for a least a couple hours now! And it’s not exactly like there will be many places to stop when we get back on the highway…” Stiles pointed out.

“Alright,” Matt conceded. “But Jackson will be going with you.”

Jackson helped him limp from the car to the bathroom, located behind the store. They kept a slow pace as his stiff muscles began to protest the sudden use. Despite the pain, he began to feel the movement accelerating the healing from the venom but was careful not to show it.

The bathrooms themselves were your run of the mill truck stop rest room, complete with Eau-du-stale-urine. Jackson tried to lead him to the urinals, but Stiles halted by the stalls.

Placing a hand on Jackson’s chest for support Stiles begun to walk slowly into the stall. When Jackson made to follow, Stiles turned around confronted the Kanima. “Whoa there, big guy! There’s literally no where I can go. You don’t need to follow me in!”

Jackson response with a slight tilt of his head. Stiles gave the Kanima an unimpressed look in retaliation, before slamming the door in it’s face. He waited until he heard Jackson shuffle closer towards the entrance before pulling out the permanent marker he managed to steal from his father’s desk before getting paralysed.

He began to scrawl his message on the grimy stall’s wall, hoping this rest stop was not as deserted as it appeared. Stepping back, he admired his work.

_Long lonely nights on the road? ‘The Sheriff’ is here to help!_

_Good range of quality girls; now featuring the fiery Lydia_

_Mention this message from STILES to receive your first call free._

Knowing that most people would likely dismiss a ‘please help me’ message as a joke and that most of the clientele using these restroom services would be motivated by one thing, Stiles hoped his father could figure out his sign. He quickly added his father’s work mobile number before storing the marker back in his pants, flushing and exiting.

Jackson stared intently at Stiles. Not eager to return to the car with Matt, Stiles made sure to take his time washing his hands.

 

Matt drove all though the night, much in the same silence as before. The day’s events had taken their toll of Stiles. He dozed off when it was dark outside and work up to the sun blaring in the sky.  Matt still showed no signs of stopping, despite the obvious fatigue starting to show in his feature.

“I’m Hungry.” Stile said, seeing the dashboard clock which read as midday. “It’s been nearly 24 hours since I’ve eaten.”

At first Matt seemed surprised that Stiles was awake, let alone willing to talk to him, but he soon recovered. With a raised eyebrow he replied, “There are pretzels, energy bars and Gatorade in the back with Jackson.”

“Pretzels?! Oh, come on!” Stiles exclaimed in frustration. “I need real food Matt – like a proper meal. _Please?_ ”

For a second it seemed like Matt wasn’t going to respond. He tightened his grip on the wheel before addressing Stiles again. “How badly do you want it?”

“What?” Stiles responds, genuinely confused.

“How badly do you want food?” Matt repeats, “What are you willing to do in exchange for it?”

Stiles was stunned into silence. He always felt Matt was creepy, but this was getting very sinister very quickly.

“What do you want me to do in exchange?” Stiles asked through gritted teeth. He knew he was not going to like the answer.

Matt looked at Stiles with a heated gaze. “A blow job.”

“A WHAT?!” Stiles exclaimed in disbelief.

“You heard what I said.” Matt said, looking back to the road.

“But you’re driving!” Stiles tried again.

“That’s not stopping _you_ from doing anything,” Matt relied calmly. “How much do you want food Stiles?”

Stiles remained silent. On one hand, he needed to eat a proper meal if he were to have any chance of escaping. It would also give him another chance to leave some breadcrumbs for his father, but the main reason he was so desperate to stop, was it would buy his father, and his friends, some time.

On the other hand, he would have to willingly do that. To Matt. Stiles was a virgin, in literally every sense. He had never given a blow job to anyone, let alone a guy and he wasn’t sure he was ready for Matt to take that away from him.

“What’s it going to be Stiles?” Matt asked. “Because there is a diner coming up, but the only way you can convince me to stop for it is if you can get me off before we reach it’s exit.”

Stiles suck in a breath. He need to do this, he needed to give his dad enough of a chance to rescue him – he could not stay with Matt much longer. Summoning up his courage, he leant over and started undoing Matt’s belt. He could feel the bravery slipping by the second, almost inversed by the rate Matt was hardening in his hands with anticipation. By the time he managed to clumsily fumble Matt’s cock into the open, he had lost his resolve.

“I can’t.” Stiles admitted quietly, eyes watering and hand beginning to shake. “ _Please_ Matt! I can’t do this! I just _can’t._ ”

Matt looked back at Stiles, studying him.

“Stiles, I know it’s hard for you and that everything is happening rather quickly.” Matt said, unfazed by Stiles’ distress. “But you’re mine now, and the sooner you accept that the easier it will be. I am not a monster however, and am willing to help you a little. If you comply with what I say I am more than happy to ease you into this baby steps, do you understand?”

Stiles nodded, not fully processing what he was hearing. Surely Matt was not serious.

“Good. Than how about we keep the same rules, but I let you give me a hand job instead?” Matt asked. “If you can get me off in the next 5 minutes when the exit approaches, you can have your proper meal.”

It seemed like an easy enough task, but Stiles original reluctance had softened Matt’s little member. Composing his courage for the second time in ten minutes, Stiles gripped Matt’s cock and started stroking.

It should be simple – pump it a few times until it blows. But there’s no lube, causing unwanted friction. Stiles almost gags but knows it can’t be bothering Matt much, as he can feel him growing in his hands. He strokes for about a minute, succeeding in making Matt hard, but no where near ready to come. Stiles squeezes his eyes shut in frustration, tightening his grip and twisting his hand eliciting a moan from Matt in the process.

Strengthen by his determination to stall Matt’s plan, Stiles quickens his pace. Maintaining his twisting technique at random intervals, Stiles sees Matt’s swell an angry red. Slowly rubbing his thumb over the foreskin, Stiles watched as precum leaked out. Looking up, he could see them approaching the turn off for the diner.

Panicking, Stiles leans over and licks a strip along Matt’s dick. Matt cries out as he comes, white hot strips land at the on the base of the steering wheel and on his pants. He takes a moment to catch his breath, before turning off the highway.

Stiles finds that he cannot celebrate the win. He feels like a cheapened whore. He hated that he had given Matt any pleasure. He hated that he was forced to touch another mans dick. He hated that the taste of Matt’s arousal seems to be lingering on Stiles tongue.

“You did very well Stiles. I think you truly deserve your reward.” Matt announced with a smirk as he entered the parking lot. It was less abandoned than the previous nights gas station, drawing hope within Stiles. The place was not empty, but it was not exactly popular. There was a total of five cars in the car park including Jackson’s Porsche. The parking lot was quite large and the other four diners were parked close to the entrance, on the other side to were Matt was parking. “What would you like me to get for you?”

Still reeling from the recent hand job, Stiles barely processed what Matt had just said. “What...You mean I’m not going in there?”

“No. We need to stay on the move.” Matt answered with a smirk.

Stiles began to panic. He could not let what he had just forced himself to endure, go to waste. He would not let it. “But I really need to use the bathroom!”

“You haven’t even drunk anything since the last time you went.” Matt responded, raising his eyebrow in a challenge.

“Doesn’t mean my body has nothing to process!” Stiles countered. “Do you want me to be forced to pee of these seats Matt? Because I’m sure Jackson wouldn’t apricate the gesture. I mean they are leather and -”

“Really Stiles?” Matt interrupted. “Well if you’re that desperate to take a leak, use this.”

He handed Stiles an empty water bottle, before challenging smugly; “What? No longer feeling the urge to pee?”

Stiles takes the bottle, tentatively, evaluating his options. Refusing to be called out on Matt’s challenge, he instructed Matt to turn before forcing himself to pee into the bottle.

He couldn’t believe that for the second time in just ten minutes, Matt could make him feel so humiliated in absolutely different ways. When he finished, he handed the bottle to Jackson, blushing slightly. He promised himself he would not let Matt see how much the act affected him but could feel the emotions building behind his eyes.

Matt, either in a good mood from Stiles earlier efforts, or proud of himself for putting Stiles into his place, grabbed the younger teens arm and pulled him out of the car. Stiles offered no resistance as he was lead around to the trunk. He hated how powerless Matt was making him feel in their short time together.

Matt opened the trunk and pulled out some rope, before starting to bind Stiles’ wrists together. Stiles’ brain was struggling to keep up.

“Wha – Wait! Matt, what are you doing?” Stiles says panicking. Stiles hated being restrained, hated being paralysed. He already felt defenceless against the supernatural, like he was the liability for Derek and Scott to always rescue but rendering him immobile enhanced that very insecurity.

Matt ignored his protests as he finished binding his wrists and moving onto his ankles with a second piece of rope, before shoving Stiles into the trunk. He secures a piece of duct tape over his captive’s mouth, then slams the trunk door down.

Indignant at the way he had been treated in the past 24 hours, Stiles began to fume. There was no way that he, as the son of a sheriff was going to let Matt just take him.

Stiles patiently began shifting his body, to lie on his side. It was a hard feat to manage while he was restrained with his wrists behind him and ankles tied together. In the process he managed to loosen his gag, though decided to remain quiet, knowing the other patrons were parked too far to hear and as such, would only alert his captors. When he finally manoeuvred into his desired position, he began to search for the brake lights. At least someone had a chance of spotting that when they would get back onto the highway.

He was familiar with where the brake lights were in many models of cars (in yet another of his ADHD research blackholes) but unfortunately a Porsche was not common enough in Beacon Hills to have made his list. Regardless of this oversight, he managed to locate and kick out the tail lights and began to kick.

Almost instantly after he kicked out the lights, the truck opened and Stiles was greeted by very angry Jackson.

“Dammit Stilinski! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY PORCHSE?” Jackson yelled. For the first time since being captured, Stiles saw emotion on the other teens eye and his distinct Jackson sneer worn across his before expressionless face. He noted Jackson’s posture was less rigid and more like the swaggered jock he knew and hated.

“Jackson…?” Stiles questioned hesitantly, wondering if the teen had managed to gain control of the beast. He knew from previous experience that the process of who was in control was rather unpredictable, but as much of a dick that Jackson was, he would not actively aid in kidnapping Stiles. Sure, it would be less to do with his moral compass, and more that Stiles had a knack for genuinely being able to get under his skin but it was something!

“Stilinski…?” Jackson asked confused, as if he only just realised the teen was tied up and lying in his trunk. Heck, if the Kanima was in control previously, he probably just did notice. “The hell are you doing in there?!”

“Oh, you know – I just had the urge to tie myself up and chill in the trunk of your car!” Stiles sneered. He couldn’t himself. It was his natural instinct to respond to Jackson’s arrogance with his usual amount of sarcasm. “Now would you stop standing there like an idiot and untie me?!”

Just as Jackson seemed to snap into action and start helping Stiles, Matt reappeared with the take out in one have and placing the other onto Jackson’s shoulder. The impact was instant, with his entire demeanour reverting back to the restrained kanima. His eyes were eerily what Stiles noticed had changed the most, as they lost their sharpness.

“What seems to be going on here?” Matt asked with false innocence. Stiles only responded with a glare. “Oh my! It seems the brake lights have now been broken. We can’t risk getting pulled over, now can we?”

Jackson obeyed Matt’s silent commend and wondered to the edge of the more populated parking. It took a few seconds for Stiles to understand what he was doing.

It didn’t take long for the skilled kanima to _commandeer_ another vehicle, this time a dark grey SUV. Matt untied and dragged Stiles into the passenger seat of their new acquision while Jackson, ever the errand boy gathered the rest of their belonging from the Porsche.

“No offence Matt, but this seems like a bit of a down grade…” Stiles commented when Matt sat down, in his new position in the back. He was now free from his bounds, with one of the three paper bags from the diner in his lap and a coffee in his holder.

“You have proven we can’t have nice this, Stiles.” Matt replied coldly, before unwrapping his burger and taking a bite.

The sight made Stiles’ stomach rumble, and reluctantly he followed suit and began eating, pleasantly surprised to find a large portion of curly fries. The kanima got behind the wheel and started driving back onto the freeway, eating while he drove.

After he finished his meal, Matt bound Stiles’ wrists to the door handle and took a nap in the back. Stiles tried to egg Jackson on, wanting to see if he could draw the teen back out from the beasts control again. He failed and after a solid few hours of trying gave up and instead focused on trying to trying to locate road signs that could tell him were they were.

He could feel the caffeine beginning to kick in, easing the withdrawal symptoms he was beginning to feel from his lack of Adderall. But with the extra clarity and added silence, also came the ache in his heart. He missed his father. He missed Scott. He missed the rest of the pack, Lydia, Ms Mcall. Heck he even missed school at this point!

Adding to those emotions was the frustration of not being able to escape. Stiles was the Sheriff’s son, he had so many aces up his sleeve. But he was still the victim. No, he was always the victim. He was not the one Peter saw enough potential in to bite. He was the one Peter chose to kidnap when he could not get to his nephew or Scott. He was the one Matt used as leverage against his father and Scott.

He was not the strong man his father was – he was just weak.

 

                                                                       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update? Already? Hell must have blown over...


	3. Chapter 3

Shortly after waking from his nap, Matt decided to spend that night in a motel. Stiles could tell that despite his superhuman abilities, Jackson was beginning to show signs of fatigue and Matt also needed some time to recover from the events at the station. They still spent the bulk of the day driving, before finally finding a quiet out of the way motel.

“Watch him.” Matt ordered Jackson, as he got out of the car to check in. From where they were parked Stiles could not see the office, but even if he could he doubted there would be too much he could do. The place looked like it would accept the less than savory, charge by the hour clientele. Matt returned after only five minutes and Stiles was lead to the third room on the ground floor. There were eighteen rooms split across two storeys, and they appeared to be the only guests deciding to spend the night. It was only early afternoon so Stiles refused to be discouraged.

The room itself was as Stiles had expected it to be. There were two double beds that took up the bulk of the room, a thin bench below the tv and two padded old chairs beside it. The ensuite bathroom was at the end of the room and he could see it feature a small tub and attached shower.

Stiles was deposited on the first chair where he watched Matt attentively, trying to anticipate his next move. He was taken by surprise when Jackson’s tail pieced his neck, the venom seeping in.

“Seriously?! Was that really necessary?” Stiles exclaimed, turning around to glare at Jackson. He was still in human form, but his tail was snaked out of his jeans and his eyes were its glowing lizard forms.

“Don’t get snappy Stiles, I know how cunning you are. It’s dangerous when you’re unattended.” Matt explained from inside the bathroom.

“You’re leaving me alone?” Stiles replied, wide eyed and hopeful.

Matt scoffs and finally emerges from the bathroom. “I need to take care of something in town. But you won’t be alone, Jackson will be here. He will be resting, but his senses ensure that he will be a light sleeper.”

Jackson pulls Stiles back up and drags his limp body into the bathroom and gently places him into the cramped tub. Matt come in a few seconds later, holding the rope from earlier. He bound Stiles ankles in the same manner as he did back in the diner and tied his hands to the railing on the wall. With no control over his muscles, Stiles upper body hung limply from where his hands were tied. His knees also had to be bent at an uncomfortable angle to accommodate the small tub.

Jackson, removed Stiles shoes and took off his socks, rolling them into a ball. Stiles just glared at Matt, knowing the sadistic bastard was taking great pleasure in this. He opened his mouth to call Matt out but was instead rewarded with his socks being stuffed as a gag into his mouth and sealed over with duct tape. He fought the instinct to gag, as he tasted the salty fabric lying on his tongue.

“Try not to struggle too hard,” Matt said as a parting comment before leaving Stiles, helpless and alone.

 

Stiles hated that he was waiting anxiously for Matt to return. He wasn’t sure how long he had been gone for, but the venom was definitely beginning to ware off quicker than it had previously. Stiles wondered if maybe prolonged exposure to the toxin started to make him more resistant to its effects.

His wrists had started to bleed, from his constant attempts to slip free. He knew how to pick the locks on the cuff but had nothing to pick them with. The angle he was tied on also made it impossible for Stiles to try, even if he had anything. The only other way he knew how to slip out of cuffs was to break his thumb. Stiles doubted he could accomplish that silently enough to not disturb the Kanima sleeping in the next room. It would end up just being pointless and result in a lot of pain. That left him to use the railings to pull the cuff at different angles. There was a slim chance he could find a weakness in the locking mechanism which would free him. But as he learnt, there was a higher change that he would just cut his wrists in multiple painful angles.

On top of his now bruising and bloodied wrists, Stiles really began to feel the cold. He could not feel his bare feet anymore, and his thin hoodie was nowhere near warm enough to insulate from the porcelain tub. Left alone with his thoughts, Stiles recalled reading dad’s casefile. When he began to suspect Matt, he dug through Matt’s entire file on the database and read about his father. Matt’s father was a criminal who spent most of Matt’s early life was spent on the run with his only son as company.

Matt’s control over Jackson made him powerful, but Stiles could not underestimate the knowledge and experience Matt had in actually sustaining a life on the run. He had full faith in his father and the pack, but he could not afford to misjudge Matt either.

 

At some point Stiles had drifted off to sleep. He was awoken by a hand gently stroking his hair. For a few blissful moments, Stiles had forgotten where he was. He was warm, comfortable and wanted to cling onto his sleep for just a little while longer. He was quickly robbed of his disillusions when he realised his head was rested on an unfamiliar chest.

Jerking awake, Stiles found that he was in bed with Matt. His wrists were finally freed from the handcuffs, but still lay bloody and stiff by his side. His head was resting on Matt’s lap with Matt’s arm wrapped possessively around him, his fingers gently stroking his hair.

Stiles tried to push up but his weakened muscles could not fully support his weight. Matt pulled him back down and tightened his hold. “Don’t struggle.”

Stiles ignored the order with a grunt and renewed his attempts now that his limbs were slightly more complying.

“I’m serious, Stiles. Don’t make me paralyse you again.” Matt threatened calmly, attention not even shifting his view from the TV. Stiles let out a heavy breath but ceased his struggle. He was stubborn, but he knew how to choose his fights. He lay silently, enjoying the feeling of warmth and trying to enjoy the rare intimate contact despite it’s provider.

“You scared me.” Matt stated silently, after ten minutes of remaining still. “You were so cold when I got back…Jackson could barely pick up your heartbeat.”

Stiles had not realised he had gotten that cold. He also wondered just how long Matt had been absent for his core temperature to drop so much. He usually had good circulation with layered shirts being sufficient on winter night, though he also usually wasn’t as dehydrated and starved as he current was.

“You left _me_.” Stiles reminded Matt. He tone was accusatory, but also slightly needy. It worried him. It was still early enough for him to be defiant, but he knew he needed to get away before he began relying on Matt’s presence too much.

Matt finally tore his eyes from the TV and looked down at him. His gaze was soft and almost nurturing. “I’m sorry. I got a unexpectantly held up.”

Stiles refused to admit that not only has Matt actually apologised, but also seemed to genuinely mean it.

“Whatever.” Stiles mumbled, breaking eye contact to stare at wall which had become significantly more interesting.  Matt narrowed his eyes at Stiles but returned to watching the corny soap opera currently playing.

Jackson walked out of the bathroom ten minutes later. He only wore sweat pants, with drops of water still rolling down his torso as he continued to dry his hair. Stiles tried not to look but with nothing else vaguely stimulating around, his eyes reverted back to Jackson’s fine washboard abs.

It would not be the first time Stiles had noticed that Jackson was ripped, or even the first time he had though about Jackson’s body but usually his douchebag behaviour was enough to deter Stiles from further thought. The Kanima’s possession however changed him, removing his arrogant air.

Stiles blushed and caught himself before he got too arouse, thanking his sluggish body for not physically showing his arousal. He was sure that if he had, Matt was have mistaken his interest as consent for his own fantasies.

“Jackson. Put a shirt on.” Matt ordered through gritted teeth.

Stiles noticed that Matt was significantly tenser now. Logically, he knew there was no way Matt could have known what he was thinking. He probably just saw Stiles looking at Jackson and still felt salty that he was no longer the centre of Stiles’ attention. Still, Stiles could not shake the unease he felt with Matt acting so unpredictable.

He decided to just chalk the behaviour down to Matt’s fatigue and turned to watch the shitty soap opera with Matt. It was oddly domesticated and shortly after the show ended, Matt turned off the television and Jackson, acting on his silent orders, turned off the light and entered the other double bed.

Matt positioned Stiles so that his back was now to Matt and snuggled in behind him. Stiles lie perfectly still, partly because everything ached, but partly because he wanted Matt to just cave into his exhaustion.

He lay still for what felt like an hour, but in realty would have been closer to half that time. He began counting the pace of Matt and Jackson’s breathing, a trick he learned from his father to tell when someone when some is deep enough in sleep to try something.

He shifted slightly, testing both Matt’s response to his movement and Jackson’s alertness. Matt didn’t stir but his arms where still wrapped around Stiles. Jackson’s breathing also quickens when he moved. He deemed it to risky to make his play than.

He lay still again and thought of Lydia. He imagined her that it was her curled behind him as he breathed in her green apple shampoo. He thought about Derek and whether he was taking care of himself enough. His thoughts drifted to the teen runaways who know call themselves as part of Derek’s pack, and wonders if they’ve stopped running from their insecurities. He thinks of the McCall’s and his father, whether they would continue to have their weekly Sunday roast without him. He pondered if any of them had even felt his absence, if they even missed his presence at all.

He wouldn’t blame them if they didn’t. Lately, he had been nothing but a nuisance to everyone around him. It was his idea less than a year ago, to try and find Laura Hale’s body. His fault Scott had his whole life flipped upside down. He had also almost cost his father his job, the same job he loved enough to carry him through his wife’s death.

He barely felt the tear that flowed down his cheek, and his thoughts continued to whirl.

 

 

An hour later, Stiles shifted again in Matt’s arms. This time Matt’s arms dropped weakly at the movement. Stiles held his breath as he slowly began making bigger movements. By now Matt would be entering his REM cycle, the strongest stage of his sleep.

It would be his best chance at escaping, though he was worried about Jackson. Jackson wasn’t really reacting to his movements, but Stiles could not underestimate its alertness. He shifted slowly, trying to remain as silent as possible as well as making minimal movements. He also kept a kept his focus on both Matt and the Kanima.

By the time he managed to fully untangle himself from Matt’s hold, he realised Jackson’s breathing pattern change slightly. He was already half out of bed and too far to turn back. He froze, waiting to see what Jackson did.

Jackson remained silent for a full minute before returning to his regular snores. Stiles kept still, just in case Jackson was still on the cusp of waking up, before making his way to the front of the room. He had two options now; he could try and find either Matt or Jackson’s phone and call his father, or just run.

While just getting out of there was tempting, he did not know where he was or how he would get to safety with no money or resources. Hell, he didn’t even know where Jackson had put his shoes. He also knew he couldn’t search the room for either his shoes or a phone. There was just too much of a risk of Matt catching him.

He crept to the door, and quietly unbolted the lock. He creaked the door open, gratefully for it opening soundlessly before exiting himself. Once he was outside the room, he throws all caution to the wind and bolted for the front office.

He breathed in a massive sigh of relief when he entered the office and saw a boy behind the counter. The attendant himself looked was barely eighteen and was wearing a name tag labelled with ‘Clark’. He looked extremely bored and appeared to be just scrolling through his phone until he heard the entrance bell. He lifted his eyes and spied Stiles stumbling into the office.

“Do you need a room?” Clark enquired, retaining his disinterred tone as he put his phone down and went to the computer behind the desk.

“No! Listen, I need you to call the police!” Stiles began, fanatically. “I’ve been kidnapped, and the psychopath responsible is currently asleep in one of your room.”

The attendant seemed caught off-guard by Stiles’ story. He knew how far fetched it sound, but he needed Clark to believe it if he had any hope of escaping.

“Please!” Stiles begged, channelling all his fear into his eyes. It must have worked because Clarke reached for his phone. Stiles heard the bell above the door chime. He didn’t turn. He shut his eyes tight and breathed deeply, hoping by some small miracle that it wasn’t Matt.

“Stiles.” Matt’s voice rang across the room. It was clipped, holding in all of his anger. Stiles didn’t turn, instead focusing all his attention on to stopping his hands from shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knowwww it's been a while......honestly I just don't know where all my time goes anymore!
> 
> Originally there was going to be a lot more in this chapter, but i ended up getting really frustrated at how long it was taking me to update and decided to just split the chapter over two instead. Unfortunately, that lead to not a lot of substance being in this chapter...but hopefully it was still worth the wait!
> 
> Love you guys and your amazing comments <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will kill anyone who gets in my way.  
> I will go back to that godforsaken town you called home.  
> And I will kill your dad. I will kill Scott. I will kill Lydia.  
> I will kill that whole goddamn town and watch as it burns.

Clark looked between Matt and Stiles. Sensing their tension he lowered his phone. Stiles could see that he still had use of it from where hidden from view.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Matt said.

“Uh…hey Matt-I was just….” Stiles stuttered. He heard Matt stalk forward over his jack hammering heart.

“You just what Stiles?” Matt replies as he continued to advance. “You were just trying to contact your father?”

“No! No I swear!” Stiles pleaded, as he turned to face Matt. “Matt please. Let’s just go back. We can just go back to sleep – I swear!”

Matt came to a stop in front of Stiles. He looked up into Matt’s eyes and was met with coldness. Matt tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, as if appraising Stiles’ sincerity. “No Stiles. I think I have been too lenient with you.”

Stiles held his breath at Matt’s callous tone. “I think now, I have to show you what happens when you misbehave.”

Matt’s eyes left Stiles and moved to the young boy behind the desk. Stiles reluctantly followed his gaze. He was shocked to see Jackson slightly approaching the young night clerk. He eyes watered as he opened his mouth to warn the boy, but it was too late.

Jackson had already seized Clark’s neck with his claws. He looked in the frighten teens eyes, barely older than he was, and saw the raw panic and fear. Before he had any time to let out a scream, Jackson ripped his throat out.

Stiles recoiled in shock as warm blood sprayed across his face. The body, now released from the kanima’s grip, slumped across the counter. The head hanging off the end causing blood to seep and pool on to the floor.

Staring at the lifeless body in horror, Stiles noticed that the kid’s cell phone was still on. Not only that, but he noticed that in the clerks last minutes of life, he had succeeded in calling 911. He had no time to celebrate as he felt a prick on his neck.

The paracletic venom kicked in instantly, causing him to collapse in the bloody pool left by his hero’s corpse. Unsurprisingly, he landed awkwardly. He was sprayed out on his back, head turned slightly towards the front door and his only exit – oh the sweet irony that was becoming his life.

He tried to hold back the tears as he still felt the blood from Clark’s neck dripping steadily into his check. He tasted its coppery tang in his mouth as Matt crouched in front of him.

“This is your fault Stiles.” Matt declared, crossing his arms across his chest. “You should have known that PEOPLE. WOULD. GET. HURT. Look at what happened Stiles. Look at what you made us do.”

Stiles couldn’t help but look up at the clerk’s hanging face above him. All the life had left the young teens body. His dark eyes were open, staring blankly back at Stiles. He could feel the guilt burning within him. Had he not tried to escape, or had he been more successful in his attempt, there was no doubt the young boy would still head alive. He should not have escaped until he knew it was safe. He was such an idiot. He was a sheriff’s kid who should have known better.

“I waited so long to get you, Stiles. Now, you are finally mine! Soon you will accept it…” Matt continues to lecture, drawings Stiles’ attention back on the psychopath in control. “Until then, don’t get it twisted. I will kill anyone who gets in my way. I will go back to that godforsaken town you called home. And I will kill your dad. I will kill Scott. I will kill Lydia. I will kill that whole goddamn town and watch as it burns.”

 

\--

 

Stiles had expected Matt to try and get back on the road as soon as possible after that. He had not expected to be dragged back into their motel room. He was hauled into the bathroom by Matt and promptly undressed.

He was in a state of part horror, part shock from what had just happened at reception. Now, as he was forced into the same tub he almost died in earlier that night, he felt terror overwhelm him. Matt caught him as he swayed on his feet and blasted warm water on both them, scrubbing the drying blood from Stiles face and hair.

Jackson was also in the bathroom, mindlessly washing his hands and face in the bathroom sink. Stiles just gave it and let himself be showered by the monster. He gave in and let the tears flow. At this point, he just gave in.

 

\---

 

When they had cleaned themselves, Matt decided they needed a new car. He browsed the parking lot, before directing them all to the only other car there. It was a beat-up Chevrolet, which undoubtedly belonged to the clerk.

He offered no resistance as Jackson lead him to the trunk and began binding his wrist. His ankles followed a slimier treatment before finally being gagged. However, Matt must have learnt from the diner as once he was shoved into the trunk, Jackson pull his ankles up tied them to his wrists, effectively hogtying him.

Stiles still offered no defiance as the truck lid was slammed down, devouring him in darkness.


End file.
